Sky Drabbles
by LittleRussianTiger
Summary: Just a few drabbles about two friends before the war. (And their deaths... T-T) And yes, that is a picture of a rock.
1. Kapoo Wip Smack!

Kapoo wip smack!

Kapoo wip smack!

 _"Hehe..."_

KAPOO WIP SMACK!

SLAM!

"WHAT. ARE YOU DOING."

A certain someone opened a metal door with a clang, bleary eyed and still in his nightshirt.

"IT'S _LITERALLY_ THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT."

... ... ...KAPOOWIPSMACK.

"Hey! That hurt, idiot! Oi! Don't you dare gimme that 'I'm cute and innocent, please don't hurt me' look!"

...Kapoo wip smack?

"That's it! Gimme that tennis racquet! And the ball! All of them! Why are they even in your pocket in the first place?! WHY ARE YOU PLAYING _RACQUETBALL_ IN THE FIRST PLACE?!"

"...But I'm bored, oh great 'Sky Emperor.'"

"Then go to sleep! Why are you even up here?! I thought you said you had stuff to do!"

"I did. But then I didn't."

A facepalm and a sigh. "Falma. I don't understand you sometimes."

With a rapid succession of nods, the response was: "See, even my mother told me I was impossible."

"Augh… Just... Go back to sleep…"

"But… It's cold in my room…"

"Oh, really? We're at 34,000 feet and this has just occurred to you?"

Pouty face?

"Oh, fine. Fine. Get your lazy lighting butt in here."

"Yay!"

Glomptacklesqueezyhug.

And just before sleep was found (though, being crushed by your friend in a very small hammock wasn't all that comfortable), a sentence was whispered-

" _Kapoo wip smack…"_


	2. The Boomerang Coffee Machine

Knock knock knock.

"Grafl! How do you use this?!"

With a grumble and a sigh, along with the thought of 'why are you so impossible?', the Sky Emperor opened the door to his charting room reluctantly. And lo, there stood the great and mighty idiot himself, his hand stuck inside a... Was that his coffee maker?

"Falma- what in the name of every god in history are you doing with my coffee machine?", he asked, bewildered.

"Oh! That's what this is!", his friend said, shaking his inexplicably caffeinated hand around and laughing stupidly. "Could've sworn it was a boomerang machine!"

...

"A _what_."

"Y'know... A… A boomerang machine?"

"No. No, I'd don't know. Uhm... Did you take those...vitamins...on the counter, by any chance?"

"Lemme think... Oh! Yup! Need those supplements! Ah-hah, health..." He laughed.

"Falma... Falma, those were morphine capsules..." He facepalmed. He'd been doing that a lot lately.

"Well...", he said with an exasperated sigh. "Let's get that off you, I guess."

Two broken saws later, the poor bringer of coffee lay on the floor, cracked, and well, sawed.

"You owe me a new coffee making machine", he said, quietly mourning for the device. "Falma, next stop, I'm kicking you to the ground for a week. You're grounded, mister."

But Falma didn't hear him. He was too busy trying to teach the toilet algebra.


	3. Bacon Bros Unite!

There was nothing quite like waking up trapped beneath a meatloaf of a best friend. On a hammock. On a (stolen) airship with bad heating ducts. At 34,000 feet. Yeah... Nothing quite like it. And it always ended up like this too- he'd go to sleep alone, and wake up being cuddled like a cat.

"Oi", he said, voice muffled. "This'll be the last time I ever have you stay up here over night, mister. Wake up."

Mmm, no response. Well then. Plan B.

He cleared his throat. "FALMAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"JHDFHIIUERNRHDUOWOQOIEIWRNFNX." Womp. There goes best friend. Wee~! Right on the floor.

"YOU GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!", was the complaint that followed the startled sound that resembled a cow giving birth. "I THINK I WENT INTO CARDIAC ARREST FOR A SECOND THERE!"

"Clear", the Sky Emperor said sarcastically, making one of his otherworldly pistols with a hand and pretending to shoot.

"You're so mean...", said Falma, pulling his legendary pouty face.

"I love you and all, but I have to admit, I love you less when I wake up with barely an air to breathe because SOMEBODY is crushing my body. Hammocks aren't really designed for more than one person."

"Why do your sleep in a hammock, and not a normal bed?"

"Because. I can. It's my ship."

"Correction, parent's ship that you _totally_ stole."

"Fair enough. Whatcha want for breakfast?", he said, finally getting up.

"...Do we have bacon?"

He grinned. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking...?"

"BACON BROS UNITE!"

With a mid-air high five, off to the kitchen it was.


	4. A Sparky Nap

"Grafl! Gralf! HEY! GRAFL! Guess what?! GUESSSSSS!"

He just wanted a nap. Was that to much to ask? Apparently. Every time he let Falma hitch a ride somewhere, he never got anything done.

"What", he moaned, facepillowing.

"I found a Sparky!"

Something squashy and squishy was dropped on his back. Since he was laying face down on the couch, when he jumped in surprise/ouch-it-shocked-me-pain, he rolled off the furniture placed absurdly in the back of the ship next to the extra fuel tanks and onto Falma's kneeling lap.

"Dangit Falma! Please stop adopting wild creatures!"

"Zzzzzt!", the Sparky said. It gave him another shock as he rolled off of his friend, picked it up and shoved it back into the arms of his pal.

"Hey! It's better than that Salamander!"

True, true... That episode had been a fiery fiasco. The fuel cells almost lit and exploded. Grafl had also "grounded" Falma for a month.

"Yeah... I guess... Just put it somewhere it won't cause trouble, m'kay?"

His friend nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh- sorry if I woke you up, by the way, hehe..."

"Whatever", Grafl muttered, crawling back onto the rickety old couch. Wow. He'd actually apologized this time. Usually he just backed off.

"Oh! Oh! One more thing!"

"Wha-"

He was lifted clean off the couch, encased in a giant bear hug.

"Love ya, bro!", he shouted in a laughing voice.

Despite the fluffy moment, he was then dropped unceremoniously back onto the couch as Falma ran away, laughing every step. He smiled. He had the strangest friend. Eh...but he loved him anyway.


	5. Battle of the Bubble Duck

AN: We were thinking, Alpha Dilith, Alpha Ducky… XD

What. Why. What, even...

He stared quizzically at Falma, who had not yet noticed the Sky Emperor standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

Falma was busy building a small, yet complex city entirely out of the bubbles in the bathtub.

"Alright!", Falma said happily, snapping his fingers. He held up a rubber duck, laughing evilly. "DESTROY THEM, ALL POWERFUL DUCK GOD! ALPHA DUCKY!"

He flew the duck into a building. It went up in a cloud of bubbles.

"Pew! Pew pew! Evacuate the city! Ahh! Too late! There goes the capital building! Nooooo!"

A sigh escaped him. Falma was a great fighter, a good person and an amazing cook, but... Sometimes, he just wondered if he was...'alright'.

"Ahem!" He fake coughed.

"Hey Grafl!", Falma greeted him, but without looking up. He didn't care, did he… Hm, nope.

"Falma, _what are you doing?",_ he questioned.

"M'taking a bath? What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I honesty don't really know. Or want to."

"Whatever", was Falma's response, and he went back to ruining Bubble Town.

"I'm… Just gonna go now…", said the Sky Emperor, backing away.

"Ooo! Grafl! Wait! You should get in here to! The water's so warm."

"What?! No! I am _not_ taking a bath with you and your bubble duck!"

"Alpha Ducky", Falma corrected.

"Whatever it's called! No!"

"Pleaaaase?" The legendary pouty face. x2 cuteness. Must… Resist… _Fail_. He couldn't. He couldn't turn down that face. _Dang manipulator…_

"Fine. Geez, I'll take a bath with you and... Alpha Ducky."

He ended up becoming Bubble Sky Monster Grafl who ate the town friar and crushed the bakery. Good times. Good times...


	6. Paper Airplane Logs

"So, I was going through the trees-"

"Really? You can dematerialize? Very interesting", Grafl cut it in a monotone voice, flipping through the log book.

"Grafl… You know that's not how I meant it!", Falma complained. "I was walking _past_ the trees, and this Sparky comes out, right? And I'm totally not expecting it…"

He unconsciously tuned him out. It wasn't on purpose- it was just that he was concentrating extra hard. He'd lost a few days of the log, and he was always so perfect in keeping it organized, it annoyed the heck out of him. Where could they have gone?

"So that's what happened!", Falma finished.

"Hm? Uh… Cool…", he said, still distracted.

"I'll be going now!", the other exclaimed cheerily. "See ya!"

"Hm? Yeah", Grafl responded.

The door slammed as Falma waltzed out. It slammed so hard a pencil rolled off the desk.

"Dang… Where'd those papers go?", he muttered, placing the log book back down on the table. The last person who'd had the book had been… Oh. Uh-oh.

"FALMA!", he yelled, storming out of the chart room. "GET YOUR LAZY LIGHTNING BUTT OUT HERE!"

He knocked on his friend's door. It opened.

"Falma. Do you have any idea where three papers might be? Three _very_ important papers?", he questioned.

And then he saw the paper airplanes.

Grafl made a sound similar to a recently castrated Teletubby, pointing at the planes with a gaping fish face. He tried to say something, but it just came out as a frustrated yell. He walked into the room, realizing that there weren't just three airplanes- no, you couldn't build a formation with just three- but there were nearly _fifty_. All he said was 'gah!' and 'uwaah!' before collapsing in a dead faint.

Falma just puzzledly looked at his friend, nudging his unconscious body with a boot.

"Hmm", he said. Not really knowing what to do, he bent over and picked up poor Grafl. It was probably best to put him in bed. Grafl wasn't actually terribly heavy, so he carried the Sky Emperor bridal-style to his room, carefully placing him on that absurd little hammock. You had to be careful- the thing swayed all over the place, and one miss meant a broken face.

Falma felt kind of bad about being the cause for his best friend's miniature conniption, so he put his old stuffed bunny next to him. Hm… What else could he do? Aha!

Grafl opened his eyes. His head hurt. As the ceiling came into focus, he facepalmed. Dozens of paper airplanes on stings adorned the space above him. He was going to kill Falma. One of these days. Probably.

Sighing, he decided to just close his eyes. Sometimes friends were just too much. But, he realized, he still loved them. He smiled.


	7. Painting

The first thing he saw was Falma, curled up in the middle of the floor, snoring. The second thing he saw was the...'art' that now adorned the wall. Green paint, blue paint, yellow paint… He believed it to be a field with a sun. All over Falma's wall. All over the wall of _his_ ship.

"Oi", he said, his voice dangerously low. He leaned over, smacking Falma's face.

"Five more minutes…", his honey-eyed friend moaned, curling his body tighter.

Grafl slapped him again, waking him up fully.

"Hey… What was that for?", he whined.

"Explain to me why my walls are stained with paint?", he asked scarily, a dark aura literally emanating from him.

Falma yelped, skittering away into the corner of the room.

" _Well?",_ said the Sky Emperor threateningly.

"I might have been drunk last night?", he offered.

Grafl's eye twitched. Falma laughed nervously. And then he was tased.


End file.
